


Familiar Hum

by LingeringLilies



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, it's so fluffy i wanna die, literal fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:02:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6137470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LingeringLilies/pseuds/LingeringLilies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa tries to teach Clarke about domesticated animals. Clarke doesn’t understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Familiar Hum

Clarke still wasn’t used to the looks she got as she walked beside Lexa through the streets of Polis. Most looks were of distrust, others of fear or respect. The guards that flanked them were comforting, though felt unnecessary at times.

“Where are we going again?” she whispered to Lexa.

“To see one of my training instructors from my youth,” Lexa said, keeping her eyes forward. “Mika.”

“Why?”

“I haven’t seen him since returning to Polis.”

Clarke was confused as to why Lexa wanted her to meet her old trainer until she realized they were going on a social call. She relaxed at that, though she did feel a twinge of sadness. Lexa wouldn’t allow herself to use the word _friend_ , even if it was what she meant.

When they arrived at Mika’s house, Lexa nodded to her guards to remain outside while she and Clarke went in. Clarke was interested to see how most Polisians lived; up in the tower, she was ignorant of the day-to-day lives of Lexa’s constituents.

They ducked inside, Clarke relishing the coolness and soft light of the house. It smelled earthy and good, like bread and tea and dried fruits. An older man in Polisian dress stood before them, beaming as Lexa walked toward him, a smile of pride and relief.

Lexa greeted her friend softly, with a handshake and a bow of her head. She had just turned to introduce Clarke to him when Clarke saw movement in the corner of the room. Turning her head, she was jolted into panic at the sight of a large wolf staring her, eyes bright, mouth hanging open as it panted hungrily. Its fangs were gleaming. She shrank, wondering how Lexa could have led them into such a trap. She grabbed Lexa’s arm reflexively, hoping Lexa would draw her knife quickly.

Lexa tensed in response to Clarke’s startle, then softened when she saw what Clarke was frightened of. Her eyes glanced between Clarke and the wolf a few times before she put her other hand softly over Clarke’s in a gesture of reassurance. She freed herself and walked directly toward the wolf.

“Hei, Phoebe,” Lexa said, crouching down before the beast. She lifted her hands to the animal’s head, digging her fingers into its fur and tousling it, making a circular scrubbing motion. The wolf squinted and its mouth opened wider, tongue dangling out and panting as its tail thrashed against the floor and wall behind it. Clarke noticed the animal wasn’t even chained; it sat unfettered in the corner.

“You look good,” Lexa said, still hushed. “I’m glad you’re still here here to watch out for Mika.”

She stroked the wolf’s head a few more times before rising, eyes darting to Clarke with a final nod of reassurance before turning back to Mika. “Mika, no doubt you’ve heard of Wanheda’s efforts to fortify the alliance,” Lexa said.

Mika turned to Clarke, who was still confounded by the presence of the wolf. He gave a bow. “Indeed I have,” he said, his voice rumbling but gentle. “Welcome to Polis, Wanheda.”

Clarke swallowed and gave a trembling nod in response.

“Please, sit,” he said, gesturing to a table with three chairs around it.

Lexa accepted graciously and walked over to the table, urging Clarke to join them.

Clarke walked cautiously to the table, not wanting to make any sudden movements that might invite the wolf to attack. It had seemed docile enough with Lexa, but in her brief time on earth Clarke had learned how cunning animals could be. She had come to understand many of the customs and beliefs of the Grounders, but keeping a vicious animal in one’s living quarters was utterly perplexing.

Lexa and Mika spoke of Lexa’s travels, of political happenings, and of warriors who had made the ultimate sacrifice for their people. Clarke stayed on the fringe of the conversation, always keeping an eye on the wolf. She managed to eat a bit of the food Mika had offered, contributing a few words to the conversation, but felt keyed up to the point where she realized she was jiggling her leg under the table. Lexa reached over to still it, never taking her eyes off Mika. Clarke couldn’t wait to leave, to get back to her safe, protected room in the tower where wolves were kept out by dozens of guards.

After what felt like hours, Lexa stood, giving Mika a nod and a rare handshake. Mika turned to Clarke. “Lovely to meet you, Wanheda. I know Heda is _very_ happy to have you in Polis,” he said with a smile. His eyes danced to Lexa and Clarke thought she saw Lexa’s eyes narrow in response.

Clarke turned toward the door, dreading passing the wolf, but eager to flee its presence. She walked before Lexa, hoping she didn’t seem rude.

To Clarke’s horror, Lexa stopped before the wolf again, stooping the scrub its fur. This time the wolf lifted its snout, letting out a whine before shooting forward toward Lexa’s face. Clarke held back a shriek as the animal licked Lexa’s cheek and nose a few times. Clarke had been certain the animal would bite her. But instead, Lexa smiled, letting her nose scrunch up as she said something in Trigedasleng to the animal before standing, giving it a final pat on the head before leaving.

The guards flanked them as they made their way back to the tower. Lexa said nothing, looking about her at the streets as though she didn’t know Clarke was so preoccupied. When they finally entered the tower and the guards dispersed, Lexa said softly, “It’s not uncommon for Polisians to keep animals for companionship.”

Clarke frowned.  “Why?”

“They are peaceful and domesticated. They provide comfort.”

Clarke let out a scoff of bewilderment. How a beast could provide comfort was beyond comprehension. With all the peril around them, it seemed idiotic to invite predators into whatever shelter could be found.

“How do they know they won’t attack?”

“Have you ever feared your horse would attack?” Lexa countered.

“No, but… horses aren’t beasts of prey.”

“Neither are dogs, unless they’re driven to it.” Lexa paused. “Animals do not betray their masters the way men do,” she said quietly, avoiding eye contact.

Clarke was surprised to hear Lexa volunteer conversation about betrayal, but understood it as another apology.

Lexa was quiet for a moment. “Animals have a greater capacity for loyalty than people. I would trust a dog over my guards.”

Clarke was bewildered to the point of amusement. She realized now that the animal hadn’t been a wolf, it had been a dog. Still, she didn’t think she could trust it the way Lexa said she could.

“You’ll see, in time,” Lexa said. “Animals possess great wisdom.”

Clarke lifted her eyebrows, skeptical but resigned to the many confusing ways of Polis.

* * *

Clarke was sitting in her room reading one of the crumbling books she’d found in Lexa’s library when a knock sounded. She rose, walking to the door. Outside was Lexa, cradling a rabbit, its torso elongated as it trembled in Lexa’s arms. Clarke frowned. It was a strange-looking rabbit, much furrier and rounded than the ones she’d seen scamper through the brush in the forest.

“This is Iris,” Lexa said, gesturing to the animal in her arms. “She belongs to one of the Nightbloods under my tutelage.”

Clarke stared at Lexa, waiting for explanation. Surely she didn’t expect Clarke to help prepare a meal when she had servants to do that for her.

“Iris is one of the domesticated animals I was telling you about,” Lexa said, walking into the room.

Clarke thought she understood. It made sense to keep breeding animals for food. “She’s used to breed?”

“No. Just for comfort.”

Lexa set the rabbit on the floor and reached into her pocket, producing some type of leaf.

“Here,” Lexa said, offering the leaf to Clarke. “She’ll eat from your hand.”

Clarke didn’t understand why Lexa wanted Clarke to feed the rabbit, but went along with it. She took the leaf and crouched down, holding the leaf out to the rabbit.

The rabbit hopped jerkily toward her, pausing briefly before craning its neck out to bite into the leaf. It tore a piece off with surprising ferocity, chewing it frantically before snapping forward to tear off another piece. Once it had consumed that, it stepped forward and went to bite off another piece, only this time, its teeth snapped painfully into Clarke’s finger.

Clarke yelped and jerked her hand away, bringing it down with a _slap_ on top of the animal’s head in self-defense.

“Clarke!” Lexa cried, angry. She scooped the rabbit up and glared. “We don’t _hit_ our pets in Polis.”

Clarke was still stunned. Her finger was throbbing, the rabbit was shaking, and she didn’t understand why Lexa had brought the rabbit to her room in the first place.

“It _bit_ me!”

“Not intentionally,” Lexa said, her glare softening. “It can’t distinguish your finger from food.” She stood looking at Clarke critically for a moment before she turned to go. “I should return her to her owner.”

Clarke nodded, looking down at her finger to see if she was bleeding in an effort to stave off the shame and confusion she felt now.

* * *

Clarke was still sleeping when a knock sounded at her door. She rolled onto her back, rubbing her eyes as she called, “Come in!”

The door opened and Lexa peered in, hesitant when she saw Clarke was still asleep.

“Sorry to disturb you,” she said, backing out.

“It’s okay,” Clarke said, propping herself up. “Come in.”

Lexa hesitated, then came in. She had a basket over one arm. On silent feet, she walked toward the bed and sat on the edge.

Clarke sat up, wiping her eyes, trying to clear any blur so she could see Lexa clearly. It still felt new to have Lexa come into her space so casually, though Clarke certainly didn’t mind.

Lexa reached into the basket and pulled out a tiny animal. It vaguely resembled a bobcat or lion, though it was miniature and its fur was far more fluffy. It dangled in Lexa’s hand, squinting as it let out a tiny, squeaking noise of protest.

“This is Artemis,” Lexa said quietly, lifting the animal to her chest, cradling it against her collar. “Her mother is our best mouser.”

“Mouser?” Clarke asked.

“Responsible for killing mice who might contaminate our grain stores or spread disease.” Lexa brought her other hand up to stroke the fur of the mewling creature.

Clarke puzzled at the tiny animal, wondering how it might ever hope to catch a mouse, let alone kill it. It was more likely to be preyed upon. She thought of the wolf in Mika’s house and wondered if Artemis would grow to be the size of a panther.

“How big do they get?”

“Not too big. A little bigger than Iris,” Lexa said, directing her gaze down to the furry ball nuzzling her skin. “When domesticated, they can be very sweet. If I had a familiar it would be a cat.”

Clarke realized the animal Lexa was holding was an infant cat. She’d heard of cats, of course, but other than the large ones she’d encountered in the wild, she’d never seen one.

Lexa was quiet as she continued to stroke the cat, then looked up hopefully. “Would you like to hold her?”

Clarke was uncertain, but the look on Lexa’s face told her that Lexa was eager for her to understand the appeal of domesticated animals. She squinted at the kitten, wondering how it was any different than a wild animal.

“Does she have claws?”

“She does,” Lexa said. “They’re sharp. But unless you hurt or scare her, she won’t claw you. At least not purposefully.”

Clarke was unsure, but she wanted to compensate for the way she’d slapped Iris. She gave a tentative nod.

Lexa held the animal toward Clarke, depositing her in on the blankets over Clarke’s lap. Clarke felt the soft weight and warmth coming from the animal as it mewed, head straining up to look at Clarke.

Clarke locked eyes with the little cat, who seemed teary and lost despite the comfort she’d been placed in. The pinched noises the cat made were so pitiful and soft, Clarke wanted to soothe her as she would an infant. Tentatively, she lifted two fingers and ran them down the cat’s back as she’d seen Lexa do.  

The cat pressed up into her fingers, her mewl growing louder as Clarke slid her fingers over the softest fur she’d ever felt. She opened her palm and let her whole hand run down the cat’s back, marveling at how soft it was. She wondered if the fur on the cat’s underbelly would be even softer and moved her hand to check, but Lexa stopped her.

“Cats are particular about where they like to be touched,” she said, warm but warning. “Unless she invites you, only touch her head and down her spine.”

Clarke nodded, still staring at the little animal in her lap. She felt something warm and protective swell in her chest as she ran her hand down the cat’s back again and again.

The animal settled into the blankets, curling its tail around itself. When Clarke felt it vibrate like a podship or engine in the distance, she looked up at Lexa, wondering.

“She’s purring,” Lexa said, a smile rounding her cheeks. “That means she’s happy.”

Clarke’s mouth opened in awe, amazed she had satisfied the tiny creature with just the touch of her hand. She stared down at it, finally understanding why someone might want such a companionship. She thought of all the times on the Ark when she’d been lonely or lost, and wondered how she might have felt if she’d had a creature like Artemis in her quarters.

“She’s so sweet,” Clarke whispered.

“Perhaps if you stay in Polis she can be yours once she’s weaned.”

Clarke looked up at Lexa, heart quickening at what Lexa was suggesting. She knew she had a political place in Polis, but taking on a creature for comfort suggested she was welcome once those duties had been fulfilled. Lexa was offering her a home, of sorts.

Clarke had much to learn about cats before she adopted one of her own, but she was compelled to receive Lexa’s greater offer.

“I’d like that,” Clarke said quietly.

A smile flickered over Lexa’s face, sheepish and restrained. She kept her eyes on the animal before them, but Clarke was fairly sure that if she were to hold her ear to Lexa’s chest, she would have heard the same little motor that hummed in the cat humming inside Lexa.


End file.
